


every memory of the sweet sunshine

by devourer_of_books



Series: Camleot High Shenenigans [2]
Category: The School for Good and Evil - Soman Chainani
Genre: F/F, Gen, but hester? weak for agatha, from day one, sophie and aggie shenanigans, there is no insta-love in WSF i said
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-05-30
Updated: 2020-06-04
Packaged: 2021-03-03 01:56:00
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,532
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24446953
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/devourer_of_books/pseuds/devourer_of_books
Summary: Some scenes that didn't make the final cut for "we're soarin', flyin'" and some trivia and exposition no one asked for.
Relationships: Agatha/Hester (The School for Good and Evil)
Series: Camleot High Shenenigans [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1763908
Comments: 4
Kudos: 21





	1. Lunch at Cottage White

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sophie and Agatha make a pit stop on their journey to Avalon

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This was originally part of the first scene of chapter one of WSF, but I eventually decided to cut it out, (find out why in the end notes) and just mention the events of the scene in a small paragraph.

(June 6th, 2020)

“I just think it’s a great opportunity for you to practice your driving, that’s all,” Sophie says, as they receive their orders at Cottage White’s counter.

In normal circumstances, Sophie wouldn’t be caught dead at a Cottage White. It was a grubby restaurant-chain that sold caloric bombs, had no sense of aesthetic whatsoever and somehow had the same evil-looking old lady working the counter at every single store.

But given the fact that Sophie had been driving non-stop for three hours with her moody sister and neither of them thought ahead to bring any food or water, here she is.

At the very least, the bathroom was nicer than what they might have faced at the gas-station.

“And the fact that it’s a _seven-hour highway drive_ has nothing to do with it, right?” her sister replies, her voice dripping with sarcasm. The evil lady hands Agatha their tray and she speed-walks past Sophie, her longer legs allowing her to put quite some distance between them, leaving Sophie to scurry after her.

“It’s still practice!” she insists. 

Agatha rolls her eyes, choosing to sit in the smallest table she found, right in the corner, despite the restaurant being completely empty, save for the evil old lady. Which wasn’t surprising, as it was a mediocre roadside restaurant, right outside a very small town, and it was _way_ past lunch time. 

Sophie had the dreadful feeling that it was good indicative of how the next six weeks would go.

Her twin sets down the tray, taking out her triple-cheese-cheeseburger, her side fries and her water bottle before pushing the tray containing the remaining food (a sandwich and a drink) towards the Sophie’s side of table. 

Once she catches up with Agatha, she too sits down (not before giving the chair a swipe, just to make sure it wouldn’t stain her skirt), setting the sanduiche aside and taking a sip of the giant-sized orange juice she ordered before frowning. Sophie holds the semi-transparent plastic up against the light, noticing the absurd amount of ice the evil old lady put into it. _Should she drink it all at once_? The ice was bound to melt sooner rather than later and the drink was already watery enough as it was...

“Why is it so hard to find roadside restaurants that serve freshly-made orange juice without ice?” she mumbles, setting the cup aside, propping her elbows on the table to steal some of Agatha’s fries.

“ _Capitalism_ ,” her sister answers, between bites of her burger. Sophie doesn’t know if she meant it as a joke or not, her aloof expression intact, which somehow makes it even funnier.

They eat silently. Agatha is half-way through her cheeseburger when she shoves Sophie’s hand away from her side dish.

“No.”

“But Aggie!”

“I asked you if you wanted fries, and you said _no_ , so you get _no fries_ ,” she reprimands, despite the fact that she just let Sophie get away with eating most of her fries.

Sophie pouts, but leans back in her seat. Her sandwich is considerably greener and flatter than Agatha’s; way healthier but not nearly as delicious-looking. It remains untouched, partly because Sophie thinks the evil old lady might have poisoned it, partly because now she wants fries.

“You know, I always give you rides home after school when you ask me,” Sophie brings up the issue again, attracting an angry look from her sister, running her finger on the edge of her watery-orange-juice cup. “This is the one time I’m asking you to drive me somewhere, Aggie. _One time._ And this is what I get.”

Her sister isn’t impressed at all, dropping the remains of her sandwich onto her plate, crossing her arms.

“We live like, eight blocks away from school, Sophie,” she rolls her eyes. “ _Boo, poor you_!”

“Still!” the blond insists. “Gas is expensive you know!” 

“A: dad is the one paying for your gas,” Agatha lifts one finger. “B: even if he wasn’t, it costs you _literally nothing_ to give me that ride back, because you’re driving home _anyway,_ ” she lifts another, and then a third one. “C: of course you never ask me to drive you anywhere, _you never let me drive your car_!”

“Well, because it’s _my_ car!” Sophie whines.

“Then _you_ drive it!”

Agatha makes a move to grab her water bottle and Sophie whispers, before she can stop herself:

“You could have gotten a car too, you know…” she crosses her arms. “...If you weren’t so busy pretending you’re the next Jesus Chirst.”

“We didn’t need _two_ cars, Sophie!” the volleyball player glares at her, crushing her half-empty water bottle with her left hand. “We’re sisters, we live in the same house and we go to the same school. A school that is only half a mile away from our house, mind you, in a city with some of the best public transport in the country. I told you, private cars are bad for the environment and−” 

Sophie tunes Agatha out, as she tended to do when her sister was being stubborn. 

They had argued one too many times on this topic and it never really lead anywhere.

For their 16th birthday, their father had let them choose a car as a present. Agatha chose to use part of the money that was supposed to go towards her car to help volleyball players from her team who couldn’t afford to go to nationals. The other part she gave to _Sophie_ , as the car she had chosen, a fancy bubblegum pink sedan, had been a bit too pricey for their father’s budget.

It was downright infuriating.

Sophie knows she is not always the easiest person to get along with, just as their mom wasn’t. Agatha had always been looking after her, one way or another, but there were times her sister’s so-called sense of righteousness and protectiveness over her was just borderline ridiculous. She did not ask Agatha for help with the car situation. But she accepted her help because it aligned with Sophie’s interests at the moment.

She hadn’t asked for Agatha’s help with the cruise situation either. If it had come to that, Sophie would have found a way to bend their father’s will. She always did. But no, Agatha had to drop everything in her life to come _rescue_ _her_. 

“... And I had to **−** ”

“Had to save money for _nationals_ ,” Sophie interrupts. “I know!”

“Then why would you bring it up!”

“Because you−” she is able to catch herself before aggravating the argument. “I just thought you might appreciate the chance to drive it for a while!”

Agatha massages her temples.

“If I drive the rest of the way, will you _shut up_ and let me _eat?_ ” she asks through gritted teeth.

Sophie pretends to mull it over.

“Give me your fries and you got yourself a deal.” 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 1\. As you see, it was easy for me to compact this into a single paragraph because not much actually happens.  
> 2\. Sophie has a self-awareness I couldn’t let her have at this moment in her arc, given this chapter is supposed to introduce us to a self-centred mean girl, aka, book1!Sophie.  
> 3\. This scene highlights an aspect of Agatha’s personality I'd rather save for later exploration in WSF. I did an analysis about how I see this manifest in the books in a post on my instagram (find me @_devourer_of_books_) and at my tumblr (same user name).


	2. Malice Academy x Valor Prep

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hester recalls the first time she met Agatha.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This scene is flashback meant to be part of the original chapter five of WSF, which was from Hester’s POV before I decided to stick to the main characters POVs (aka, the ones you’ve seen so far: Tedros, Sophie, Nicola and Agatha). A lot of discarded scenes that I plan to post here fall under these categories of either being from a different POV or of it being an unnecessary flashback, or both, as is the case for this one.  
> I’m still working on chapter five (it should be up by tuesday), so I don’t know if I’ll keep the reference to this scene in or if I’ll save it for a later chapter (or cut it entirely) but I liked the concept of this scene and would not be able to rest if I deleted it for good.

(January 16th, 2018)

Volleyball was Hester’s first love.

It was her mother’s passion too, and aside from physical appearance, probably the only thing they had in common. There was nothing quite like being in the court, soaring above the net, hitting the ball straight into the ground. Everytime Hester closes her eyes she can almost taste the sweet flavor of victory, the sheer adrenaline coursing through her veins as she scores a point, yearning for one more, _just one more._

The crazy high of having found exactly _what she loves_ and _being damn good at it_.

Volleyball was Hester’s first love, so it’s fitting, if not bit tragic, that Hester ends up associating _volleyball_ with _Agatha_.

She’s not sure why at first, but the more she thinks about it, the more sense it makes.

Yes, Hester would meet thousands of other volleyball players through the course of her life, some just as talented, some just as driven, and some that would even grow to occupy a similar, if not more important place in Hester’s life. But for better or for worse, in a way, _volleyball,_ in its purest form, would always be ___Agatha _.____

Perhaps the association starts from the very moment they first meet, mid-january, during sectionals in eighth grade. It had been Hester’s second year playing in an official tournament, and also her first time playing as a team captain.

Malice Academy was average level team. They were good, but they never made it past regionals.

 _Maybe_ , she had thought, _that would be the year she changed that._

Being captain of a professional volleyball team has always been her dream, and something she was willing to work _hard_ for. However, one didn’t simply made captain of the country’s official volleyball team out of nowhere. No, it had to be a slow _crescendo_. She made it captain of Malice Academy, then she was to be captain of Camelot High, then captain of Netherwood University and then maybe, someday, captain of the national volleyball team. 

Winning the election for Malice had been easy enough, as Hester was clearly the superior choice. She had obvious advantages over her peers, such as her superior height and body-strength, as well as being one of the oldest girls in the junior league (she was already 15, due to her mother’s insistence that she should only join school _after_ her sixth birthday) and the _abilities_ to complement them.

But Hester needed to make an impression if she was to keep herself on track of her life-long-plan. She was a big fish in a small tank, and never had that been clearer than now, with high school looming in the horizon. _And what better way to prove herself a marvelous player than leading her team to nationals?_

The first three days of sectionals had been a bit of a bore, but that’s usually a good thing.

To qualify for sectionals, a team only needed to be listed amongst the top 20 teams of their hometown and have a main sponsor (usually a school, but not always). For Camelot, that was bit of a tight squeeze given the massive size of the city, but many smaller towns didn’t even _have_ 20 teams. As the matches were sorted randomly, more often than not, the best teams just massacred their way into regionals without much trouble and the real battle began there.

But every so often, the stars would align and you’d get yourself a game against a powerful team. 

When Hester arrives at the gym on the fourth and final day of sectionals and looks at the board, she is conflicted to see that they’ll be playing against a national level team: _Valor Preparatory School For Girls._

On one hand, it would be a great experience and, _if they won_ , the morale would be crazy high. Valor Prep had been the one to steal their place at nationals two years ago, before Hester made the cut in the official team, and the two schools hadn’t faced each other in court since, as Charity Conservatory beat Malice Academy out of the championship run the previous year. 

On the other hand, Malice’s chances of winning aren’t all that high. Not non-existent, but not big, nonetheless. It would be a challenging game.

But _challenging_ didn’t mean impossible.

During the first set, Hester observes Valor Prep’s players. _Most of them_ , she takes note, _are not from their usual varsity team_. Their captain and coach probably underestimated Malice Academy and decided to spare their official players, sending them to watch other matches, expecting an easy win.

_Their mistake._

And so, Hester explored their weakness. Especially their fragile defense.

Malice was about to win the first set against Valor, when she overhears the other team's captain, a buff middle blocker named Faith, talking to their coach during a time-out, asking her to fetch their official setter so she could play the next set instead of the small red head helpless setter they had been playing with so far.

Malice Academy wins the first set by a landslide, but Hester's intuition goes crazy as soon as the Valor Prep coach reappears with their setter.

Valor’s setter is a tall girl that, while not as tall as Hester or Faith, is intimidating in her own right, towering over most of her team. She was the only change their coach makes on their set-up and as the ball starts rolling, Malice's opposite can tell why they didn’t think it was necessary to bring any other varsity players. It was like her presence shifted the entire team's dynamic. The captain was still Faith, but she was the one the others looked up to. The one with the plan. She was a true strategizer, her analyzing brown eyes scanning the court like chess board, predicting Malice’s every move, and yet betraying none of her own.

More than once, Hester finds herself, even with her strongest and more creative hits, stuck on her block. Her sets are flawlessly custom fitted for every single hitter on her team and she has a grace to her movements, a lightness to her feet, like she had been _born_ to do this. 

Not that she had been staring or anything.

_Talent recognizes talent, that's all._

The game was over soon enough, 3x1 to Valor Prep. Both teams saluted each other and gathered their belongings to leave premises, either for celebratory or for consolation ice-cream.

Hester, however, chooses to remain behind, lost in her thoughts, as she filled her red water bottle at the hallway right outside the gym. So lost, in fact, that she didn't even realize someone snuck up on her.

“You have a good spike,” Valor’s setter compliments and Hester is grateful for her own self-control, as she doesn't jump, “but you should consider asking your setter to lower the ball a little. You’re tall, but if it had been just a tad lower you could’ve hit the top of the ball more efficiently.”

The comment lacks any mocking and condescence, which is _unusual,_ to say the least. Like her only purpose had been to be _actually helpful_ and nothing else. The girl doesn’t flinch under Hester’s silent stare, filling up her own blue water bottle, almost as if she hadn’t said anything at all and Hester had halucinated her words.

Before she could say anything in response, a loud shriek echoed in the silent hallway:

“ _Aggie!_ ” a smaller blond girl, clad in a pink sweater, approaches, pulling Valor’s player in a tight embrace. “You totally crushed them! I told you you would, they never even stood a chance!”

The setter gives the girl a disapproving look, elbowing her in the ribs lightly. Only then does the blond turn her green eyes to Hester, giving her a once over before her brows lift in disdain as she crosses her arms, as if signaling _‘I don’t like you and I stand by what I said’_.

Hester scowls at her. _Yeah, blondie, I don’t like you either._

She gives a nod to the other player, which the setter responds with a nod of her own, before turning on her heels and dragging the smaller girl away.

“Sophie, you can’t just say stuff like that!” she hisses.

“Why not, _it was true!_ ”

Somehow, Hester knows that is not the last time she’ll be seeing them.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As I mentioned, new chapter of WSF coming next week so stay tuned for that.  
> I won’t be getting OTK until the 11th, so I’m writing out my frustration. With… mixed results, let’s say.


End file.
